


Morning Serenade

by buttheyrebrothers



Series: Poetry [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, POV Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4462190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttheyrebrothers/pseuds/buttheyrebrothers





	Morning Serenade

The sun rises and morning light eases the way for a new beginning. I listen for the birds to sing.   
  
_I can only hear the crows._  
  
Last night a fever induced dream, offspring of an infected soul.  
Oh how I laugh at myself for believing.  
  
                           _Phantom_  
  
Take in the rumbled sheets and bury your nose to hunt his smell. It's no use; he's gone, gone, gone.  
  
                                                         _Ghost_  
  
Have you been here? Did you leave these bruises on my skin?  
  
                                                                                         _Shadow_  
  
I grasp for you but sand is running through my fingers; hourglass upside down and the seconds tick away. It's like I'm chasing my own tail.  
  
My fingers brush over bruised skin, memory of a mouth filled with lies and promises.  
  
_I'll stay.  
  
                                                  You're beautiful.  
  
                                                                                                                       I miss you even when you’re right across from me.  
_  
And still, I drink them down like the sweetest nectar. You know I'm always coming back for more.   
  
_But who is the fool, the beggar or the liar?_  
  
You think I don't see your eyes linger like the soft smell of rain?  
You believe I don't feel your hands on me, accidental like an assassination?  
  
I see you flirt like it's your way of breathing. Cities would burn for you and the gods worship at your shrine.  
  
But they don't.  
  
They know I'm the only one who fills your lungs.  
They know it's my bed you crawl in;  
ours those hours at night that don't belong to anyone.   
  
You're still running but I saw you break your own leg.  
  
I only have to keep walking, tell myself _just don't look back_. We'll rewrite the story Eurydice.  
  
You're on the run but all your choices lead you towards me. Can you taste surrender, does it feel like defeat?  
  
Don't be scared Lot. I won't look back. I figured you out and soon the beggar will be a chooser.


End file.
